“Out of every place we could dine, you chose an arena. Why?” Isadore’s hum traveled through the night air. Their table was tucked under a tower, overlooking the arena. In the center of the expanse, a fight raged on the shining floor. The performance of violence echoed throughout the structure.

“You can’t beat the view here, and don’t you enjoy the extra space? To top it all off, there’s plenty of entertainment.” Alexander gulped vinium and sighed in contentment.

“You have a point, but I didn’t expect this.” Her eyes flickered to the lower part of the stands. Her henchmen waited in silence, taking in the fight below them.

“That reminds me of something,” he said, sliding his empty plate across the table and propping his elbow. “There’s a subject that needs our attention.”

Isadore stopped abruptly, her utensil fixed in the air as she lifted her head. “Go on.”

“They know you’re going to gather allies and have made sure to monitor anyone who might join. Fortunately for us, they’ve made a mistake. The scum of the depths will do well in assisting you."

“Won’t we need people with power at some point?”

“A subtle approach is more effective. You have plenty of resources from the clan.”

Isadore nodded, staring at him with vacant eyes. That’s when he had an idea.

“You are a fascinating person. In order for this to continue, you need to stop hiding.”

Isadore laughed, an expression of bemusement on her face. “What are you talking about?”

He moved closer and grabbed the surprised woman’s chin. “I’d rather talk to the one who truly makes the decisions. You could say it’s… a matter of preference.

Her eyes lit up in realization and she reared back. “This dinner is over.” She huffed, snatching her purse. “Good night.” She sharply gasped when Alexander gripped her arm.

“Be very careful with how you proceed from here. It’s life or death after all, and I might not be around to help you.”

The woman shook the cryptic warning, marching away to her posse.

A flapping sound pulled his attention above. His sister, in the form of an animal flailing, was transforming. Her body shifted, her limbs elongating with audible cracks and fur receding into her skin, until she finally landed on the backrest of the chair. It leaned back dangerously before settling in place.

“Whoo,” she exclaimed with a wild grin. She adjusted the headdress as she properly took a seat. “Is all of this for me? I’m touched that you thought about me at all.” Arya rested a hand on her chest and her face softened.

“I didn’t.” With a thought, the food vanished, along with the fighting below them. “It must have been nice to entertain the thought.”

“A loving brother would have been too much, wouldn’t it? I’m not here for your stupid food anyway.” She produced a codex scroll out of her sleeve, complete with a vessel, and handed it to him.

"Why didn’t you bring a crystal? I can work with those,” he said, opening the blank scroll. “You’re joking.”

"I didn’t bring any dust, either. Oh, and by the way, that cost me a ton so...” She held her hand out toward him. “Pay up.”

"Mind explaining what's on it?”

Arya retracted her hand and rolled her eyes. “Information regarding people who are part of a rebellion in our family. It’s been going on for a while, but I didn’t want to tell you anything until it was organized. It took a lot of precious time and money." She hummed and tapped the table with her hand, glancing at him occasionally.

“I don’t have any money and besides, why would I pay you for an unfinished job?”

“It’s waiting for you to complete it. Why would you want something given to you? Something you can’t unravel or decipher for yourself. This is an investment in discovering the unthinkable. A path into a journey filled with mysteries. Denying this opportunity would be admitting defeat. Do you fear you’re not equipped for this quest?”

“Have you considered becoming a Whisperer? Persuasion is their specialty." Alexander tossed money in the air, prompting Arya to snatch it. “You’d make money and go on adventures.”

“That’s a good idea. Ah, I’m already getting ideas for a story,” she sang.

“You’re a strange one.” He rose from the table. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“You aren’t too normal yourself, Mr.”

“Don’t want to be, darling.”

The sound of flapping became distant as he stared at the scroll. The usual options to reveal its contents were expensive and time-consuming. It’s fortunate he knew a shortcut. It was always good to know people who bought in bulk.

On the second floor of an unsuspecting house lay a lab. Stored inside were a plethora of ingredients, only one of which he needed. A healthy woman, who worked for the Inferno, was murmuring to herself and writing in a journal.

Alexander cleared a counter and placed the scroll on it. Scanning the shelves, he grabbed an orange-colored jar and a brush. The lid popped off, releasing a pleasant aroma. On the back of the lid was an insignia that he had breached. Cursing under his breath, but wearing a smile, he dipped the brush into the serum. The scroll was coated until the words were visible.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Everything was returned to its original position, and he watched the woman. Estella, her brilliance overshadowed by the past. In a calculated move, he flicked a bottle from the shelf. The woman inched into a corner and her voice trembled as she looked around the room.

“Who’s there?” She weakly called out, clutching her chest. “I have a weapon and I will use it.”

Trauma. It could leave people in shambles and vulnerable to the world around them. Wielded by the right person, it would become a weapon. A weapon he had yet to grasp.

The real test has begun.

And you are the chosen one

The tale of a family where love is thin

Only one can truly win

Clues are scattered all throughout

Hidden jems in places of doubt

Each poem secrets are clear

Whispers enough to smear

Alexander skimmed through the poems, deducing that each was talking about a rebellion member. Within them, she exposed the location of the crystals she hid. How thoughtful.

There was one he saved for last, as he didn’t want to go there at all. In the city of Elorida, depression and workaholism collaborated. The buildings frowned down on their inhabitants, and he didn’t blame them. The city had a way of consuming anyone who entered. The people were indifferent to this outcome and went on in melancholy. They chased a manufactured ideal of success that would never fulfill them. A waste of time and life.

Moshe’s office was located in the middle of the trash pile. The sensation of water became stronger the closer he got. The building was filled with somber expressions and tired eyes. Their shoulders were worn, having lost all effort to stand firm. Even so, whenever a client walked in, a façade covered up their wear, even their bodies, following an unrelenting schedule.

A perfect example of the reputation system in full effect. Moshe’s office was among the larger ones within the firm. A crystal was buried in a plant stationed in a corner. Moshe walked into the office, as anticipated.

He closed the door and walked to his desk. “Is there a reason you’re in my office?”

"Are the rumors true?” Alexander remained standing against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

“What rumors?”

“You’re leading a rebellion in our family. Not a very impressive one, either.”

Moshe’s face twitched, but he smiled. “Yes.”

"You admit it? Just like that?”

Moshe inched closer to him. “Because it’s not true, but I thought I’d humor you. Move.”

Alexander watched him rummage through the file cabinet. “This is no laughing matter. What’s better is that I have evidence, and it’s right here.” He waved the crystal around in his hand.

"Why didn’t you tell Matisse?”

“Don’t know. Maybe I wanted to see you squirm before turning you in. Maybe I’m testing you, or maybe I’ll do the job myself.”

Moshe raced toward him, and attempted to grab the crystal. Alexander maneuvered away from the attack, leapt over the desk to kick it toward him. The sound of shattering wood filled the room upon impact. In a flash, Moshe grabbed him by his jacket, and pulled him into a grip. They ended up on the floor as their struggle went on.

Moshe clearly didn’t believe this was a game, as he did. One touch was all it took. His arm exploded, following a short-lived tingling sensation. For a moment, searing pain shot through his arm, causing him to shiver. Blood lingered in the air, along with skin that was plastered on the furniture. Moshe vehemently crushed the crystal.

“What is wrong with you?!” The bloody stomp on his body mended at rapid speed. “Why are you doing this? We have everything.”

“You can’t be that superficial.” Moshe wiped his face, and scowled at the sight of the blood. “We’re no different from those representatives. It can all be taken away, and you know that.”

“And you want to rebel against the family because you want real power?”

“No, idiot. I didn’t ask to be born into this cursed family where my every move is monitored. I want a normal life, and plenty agree with me. Now get out. You’ve made a mess in my office.” Moshe fixed his clothing in front of the broken mirror.

Alexander peered over his shoulder. Can I join?”

“Are you dead serious right now?”

“I wanted to know about your motivation, and now I do. Enough to deduce we can work together.”

“I don’t buy it. How do I know you won’t spy for Matisse?”

“Why would I spy on you when I could send someone else? Besides, I hate the guy.”

Moshe blinked and rapidly shook his head. “Ironic.”

“You don’t have to believe me. Only know I’m an ally to your cause.” Alexander turned on his heel and opened the door.

“Did you orchestrate the attack in Mointin?”

“If you’re bold enough to ask me that, you must have evidence.”

“It’s a hunch.”

“One that isn’t your own.”

“How’d you come to that conclusion?”

“A hunch.” Alexander closed the door and silence overtook the room. “You’re right. I orchestrated the attack. This is where our goals coincide, and we work together to achieve them. That won’t happen without the Inferno gone. You know that, right?”

Moshe held his silence, his face adorned with a distant expression.

"I’ll make this next part easy for you. Dedicating the rest of my life to this family isn’t enticing. I’m not interested in a normal life per se, but a different one. Our family isn’t the most flexible when it comes to that.”

“Do you have a plan,” Moshe asked quietly.

“We need to break them from the inside and outside. Matisse already suspects that someone is working against him. He’s beginning to peek into people’s lives, looking for any confirmation. We’ll need to frame someone with current influence who served on the council.”

“I’m guessing you have this person picked out?”

“Yeah. It’ll take me a moment to arrange everything.”

“I’m willing to work with you, although it’s disturbing how keen you are about this."

“You should follow my example if you’re serious about this. Be careful."

Alexander exited the building and twirled the crystal in his hand. Moshe was going to be pissed.